


Of Claws and Teeth (a.k.a. Rhaegar's Redemption)

by TomFD



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar lives, And he already knows it, Established Relationship, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon and Sansa are married, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:58:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomFD/pseuds/TomFD
Summary: When Robert struck him in the chest, the rubies of his armor went flying and everything turned black.
He woke up and he wasn't in Westeros anymore. He spent 20 years debating on whether he should go back or not. He wanted to meet him but he didn't. 
Better later than never.





	1. Decision

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, beautiful people. Enjoy the daddy issues below.

He wasn't used to the cold. The chilly breezes of the North hit his cheeks furiously, making his natural and normally pale face redden. He ran his tongue over his chapped lips in a futile effort to wet them and - if possible - reduce the soreness produced by the hostile weather of the frozen wasteland that were the lands beyond The Neck.  
  
The cold crept through his many layers of furs and leathers, that seemed useless in the inhospitable temperatures of the Wolfswood. He had been riding for a long time. In fact, he had been travelling for a long time; ever since the news of the battle reached his ears.  
  
He new life was singing. Even though his previous life was already forgotten, he at least got to do what he liked. A somewhat good job as a musician in a somewhat good brothel in Lys, that earned him a somewhat good life. Not the kind of luxurious life he had in the capital, but certainly more peaceful and without so much pressure.  
  
But then, well, the past caught up with him. He had tried so hard to forget her. She was dead -so was he, in a way-.  But there was a living reminder of his beloved, he was told years ago by the Spider. Dark curls and dark eyes -like her-, raised by Ned Stark in Winterfell, living sheltered from Robert's wrath.  
  
For many years, he thought of going back, and seeing him and telling him everything he wanted to know. But he wasn't ready. He didn't want to face the disgust, the dissapointment, the judgement of his own kin. He called himself a coward, he yelled at himself and confronted his reflection in the mirror.  
  
He argued that perhaps he could see Lyanna again in him, and that comforted him and made him enthusiastic about meeting him. But then he desisted. He was better off without him in his life.  
  
And now there was this Battle of the Bastards, and he couldn't resist it.  
  
The stories spread like leaves in the wind, about a young lady of the North that had everything taken from her. She sought revenge, retribution. Peace of mind, knowing that should she achieve her goal, her family would finally rest.  
But of course, the girl couldn't do it on her own, specially being often associated with the treacherous Lannisters and the brutal Boltons. She searched for her half brother, and she found a leader.  
  
A gruesome battle followed, and their home was theirs again. And her half brother was named King.  
  
But he knew that this Jon Snow was no half brother of the lady. No son of Ned Stark and certainly, no son of some common whore.  
  
Jon Snow was his son. His flesh and blood. He was a dragon raised by wolves.  
He made a mental note of writing a song about that later.  
  
Rhaegar took his hood off and looked up to the skies surrounding Winterfell.

-I'll be a father to him Lyanna-, he said with a determined frown on his face. -I'm not escaping anymore-.  
  
He pulled the hood over his hair, that had a green dye to it that was almost fading completely, he gave his horse a gentle but firm kick with his heel, and he headed for Winterfell. He was going to meet his son.  
  
_Only if he'll have me_.


	2. Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets a stranger.

A loud knock on the door was enough to drive Jon's attention away from his precious place between his wife's legs, where his head was buried. He tried to ignore it but the servant outside the King's Chambers was being quite insistent.  
  
-Uh, Your Grace... uh, Graces! You must come down immediately!-, the man almost yelled from behind the door.  
  
-I believe I specifically told everyone that neither me nor the Queen were to be disturbed at the moment!-, Jon said with clear annoyance.  
  
Sansa, who had a blush extending from her cheeks to her chest, tried to stiffle a laugh at her husband's frustration. She well knew that he absolutely hated being interrupted when he was pleasing her.  
Surely she hated it too, but the frown plastered on his face and the pout on his perfect lips, swollen by his current activities, was enough to draw a loving smile from her mouth.  
  
He intended to resume his attentions but the servant still insisted on the urgency of the matters.  
  
-I'll make it up for you later, love-, he assured her in a whisper, without altering the frown that would possibly remain on his face for the rest of the day. -I'll see what's going on and I'll be back in a heartbeat-.  
  
She giggled. Jon was an incredibly attentive lover, and by the way he sounded she was absolutely certain that he was telling the truth.  
  
-Alright. Go, I'll be waiting. Eagerly-, she whispered and then she winked at him.   
  
He leaned in to kiss her, a chaste kiss at first, but when it started to heat up, she pushed him away and gave him a peck on the nose.  
  
-Don't take too long.  
  
-I won't. See you later love.  
  
He hastily dressed, fixed his curls up in a messy bun, and quickly left the chambers.  
  
-Alright lad, what is it?,- he told the young boy who had come to fetch him.  
  
-T-there's a man at the gate Your Grace, says he needs to speak to you immediately, says he-   
  
-What's his name?-Jon interrupted.  
  
-He won't tell Your Grace. We asked 'im but he said he'd only speak to you,- the young boy quickly replied.   
  
Now he was annoyed. He was just about to fuck his wife nice and slow, the way he knew she liked, after finishing every single kingly duty he had for the day _with everything that implied_ and now he had been interrupted by a single man with an "urgent matter" at the gate. Another farmer worried about Winter?  
A hungry boy looking for some coin to get something to eat?  
  
There was people he had designated himself to attend such trivial matters. He cared deeply for his people, who had chosen him their king. Even after he became Jaehaerys Targaryen instead of Jon Snow. Even when his aunt made him hang three headed dragons amongst the grey direwolves atop the walls of the Castle  
  
 _The North will be independent. But it will be ruled by dragons and wolves alike,_ Daenerys had told him after the siege of King's Landing. _It'll send a message of union_ , she had lied.   
  
_It was to prove that you still have power over us_ , Jon bitterly thought. It was still a small price for independence though, for the crown that was yet to be crafted. And he only saved himself from a marriage to Dany because he had already married Sansa, and the Silver Queen apparently had some respect for that at least.  
  
Jon closed his eyes and sighed.  
  
-Where is he now? Did you let him in?  
  
-No, Your Grace. The Lord Hand didn't let 'im in. He's still waiting at the gates, I think.  
  
-Well, let him inside at least. It's freezing outside,- Jon said to the boy.- Go, tell Ser Davos to send him to the Throne Room and I'll see to his, uh, urgencies-  
  
The boy vowed and went running outside.  
Jon slowly made his way to the Throne Room. When he arrived there, he sat on one of the twin thrones made out of weirwood. Their beautiful white wood was carved with wolf details, but the one on the right, Jon's, had three menacing dragon heads on the top.   
  
_Dany's gifts._ Everytime he glanced at the carved dragons of his throne, he rolled his eyes. _She keeps sending her little messages_  
  
He sat on the throne and patiently waited for the mysterious man in question to make his appearance.

Only moments later, the large oaken doors of the room were opened to allow Ser Davos, who now wore a necklace with a small golden hand hanging from it, a few guards whose names he couldn't remember very well, and an unknown man.  
  
He had some mystery about him for sure. He didn't look like a farmer, and he looked well fed despite being slender. He was tall, and the very few details of his face, partially hidden by a hood, were strikingly familiar to Jon. He had a long face, a square jaw but a round chin. He also appeared to have a sharp nose.  
  
Jon couldn't see his eyes and he did not like that at all.   
  
Before he could tell the man to take off his hood, Ser Davos spoke.  
  
-You are now in the presence of Jaehaerys Targaryen, the Third of his Name, the King in the North. Lord of Winterfell and protector of the First Men*,- said Davos with a firm voice.- State your name and why you are here, stranger.-  
  
-So, Jaehaerys?,- the stranger muttered- I thought she'd go for a northern name.  
  
-State your name and why you are here, now! Or else-  
  
-Lord Hand,- Jon said while holding up his hand towards the older man. -Ser, may you take off your hood, so that I can look at you in the eye when I speak to you?,- Jon said with a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
-You look just like her- said the strange man,- I knew you would look like her.  
  
-Pardon?  
  
Ser Davos couldn't contain his annoyance at the man's insolence, grabbed him by the right arm, and told him:   
  
-Don't you know who you're talking to, ser? State your name and your purpose and stop making the King lose his time with this nonsense!  
  
-Of course I do. I'm talking to my son- the man said as he removed his hood, revealing a head full of pale blond hair, with fading green dye on it. He looked at Jon with bright indigo eyes.  
  
-My name is Rhaegar. Rhaegar Targaryen.  
  
Jon's jaw dropped, and he just did what he did on these particularly difficult kingly situations:  
  
-Please send for the Queen, Lord Hand.- his eyes never leaving the man.-Now.


	3. A Father's Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't know howhat he knew, but he just did. He just needed to hear it from his lips, but he wasn't so sure of himself. With Sansa, as always, everything was easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this looks like its not going anywhere yet, but I want to build up some tension :)
> 
> Enjoy

Jon stared at the man with utter disbelief. He held no love for the man that had sired him more than twenty years ago, but he certainly respected him after learning about his life. For Jon, his only father was undoubtedly Ned, and without any kind of hesitation he would say so to the people who asked.  
  
He knew about Rhaegar, the Silver Prince, the son of Aerys who was married to Princess Elia Martell of Dorne (that had given him two children, a boy and a girl) by the time he _unfortunately_ fell in love with the woman that became Jon's mother, Lyanna Stark. Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, who loved her deeply, and when she dissapeared he began a rebellion that ended the Targaryen dynasty.  
  
That day at The Trident, Robert swung his  magnificent warhammer towards Rhaegar's breastplates, and the force of the impact ended his life. He was dead before hitting the ground.  
  
Or not.  
  
Jon wanted so bad to doubt, to tell this madman to go away and tell him that he was no son of his, that his true father was Ned even if everyone else already knew that the Crown Prince was his biological father, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. He was intrigued, the familiarity of his face, the warmth of his eyes, everything drew him in a pit of uncertainty and curiosity. He was just about to speak when Sansa strolled in the Throne Room.  
  
-By the Gods, what is the meaning of this?  
  
Oh boy. She sounded angry. She didn't like when people talked about Jon's parentage, imagine now that there was a stranger claiming to be his supposedly dead father. He loved her and how she was overprotective of him. But mostly he loved her.  
  
-What is your name, Ser?- Sansa asked after sitting at Jon's side.  
  
-Rhaegar Targaryen, my Queen. Son of Aerys, the second of his name, and his Queen, Rhaella.  
  
-Your real name, Ser. Lying to your King and Queen, specially in such delicate matters such as the King's family, is a very, very severe thing to do here in the North. The consequences are even worse, I dare say.  
  
Her queenly voice, full of authority and strenght made Jon's mouth water. He was irrevocably and impossibly in love with her. To his eyes, she had no flaws, only virtues. Whatever imperfection or defect, every scar in her back or in her thighs, her sometimes volatile temper, the nightmares that had her awake in the middle of the night, he turned into something good and made her even more beautiful and smart and loving to him. The same happened to her.  
  
-I do not lie my Queen. I know you have questions, and so does His Grace, but I can answer them all. In private, that is.  
  
Rhaegar's voice was soft and the words rolled pleasantly out of his chapped lips. It somehow soothed Jon's nerves if only a little. Like Ned's.

_No._

When Sansa was about to reply, Jon spoke.  
  
-Let us go to the library, Ser. There we can speak more comfortably.  
  
Jon spoke his words softly and he realised that his voice was similar to the blonde man's.

 _No._  
  
Sansa leaned to whisper in his ear.  
  
-Are you sure about this Jon? How do we know he's not lying?  
  
-No, and we don't. But if we don't let him explain himself, we'll never know at all.  
  
He straightened in his throne and spoke to Davos.  
  
-Lord Hand, please escort this man to the library. I want two guards stationed outside the door, just in case. The Queen and I shall be joining him soon.  
  
-As you command, Your Grace.  
  
Jon and Sansa waited until Davos and Rhaegar walked out the room. Jon clearly saw how Rhaegar glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him. It wasn't a devious grin like the one's Littlefinger used to shoot at him or Sansa. Before losing his head, anyway. No, this was a warm smile full of longing and pride. Like the ones Ned used to give him and Robb as they progressed with the sword, or when Maester Luwin told him that they were good, smart children.  
  
_A father's smile_ Jon thought for just a second, without really realising which man he was talking about. When he did, he frowned and felt his insides churn.

 _No._  
  
What if he wasn't lying? How could he explain more than twenty years of absence? How could he look at Jon in the eye after forsaking him, his own blood, if he wasn't dead all along?

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he felt shivers down his spine. He was very nervous again, and he didn't like what that meant. He thought he didn't care about his real father, but suddenly he seems to reappear after twenty two years of  _being dead_ and he changes his mind, just like that. He could send him away but he realised he didn't want to send him away. He wanted to ask him a thousand  questions and punch him in the face at the same time.

This was going to be really hard.

 _At least I'm giving him the chance to explain. It's a chance for me as well, I guess._  
  
Jon rose from his throne and took his wife's hand in his. Sansa felt the trembling and the cold of his digits and put her other hand atop of his.  
  
-It'll be fine, love. This is odd, but we've found ourselves in even weirder situations, haven't we?  
  
-Well, yes. But nothing like this Sansa. What if he isn't lying? Rhaegar died, everybody knows that. And if he didn't, why didn't he come before? Send a letter? Let me or at least fath-...Ned know about him. I've so many questions a-and I don't-  
  
-Hey, I'm here with you, always. This doesn't change anything. I don't trust in his words, not a single one of them, but let's talk to him and we'll find out if he tells the truth or not.  
  
After a few moments of silence, Jon took a deep breath.  
  
-It's him. I know it.  
  
-How?  
  
-I don't know, I just... I just know it. Besides, did you see how he looks like? Just like Dany. How many people with that hair and those eyes do you know?  
  
-Not many, but the hair could be dyed. And the eyes... well, I heard that they are pretty common in Lys. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't discard the idea of an imposter. As King, being your father could be a really important advantage nowadays.  
  
-Then why didn't he go to Dany first? He's her brother isn't he?  
  
-Jon, we'll find out as soon as we speak to him. Together.- She tightened her hold on his hand.  
  
Jon smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
\- Aye.Together.


	4. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Rhaegar have the talk. Well not THAT talk. The other kind of talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long(ish) chapter because the other ones were short af.
> 
> Enjoy, beautiful people

He did not know who Jaehaerys' hand was, nor his house. He had never heard of house Seaworth, never read of it in his books and nobody ever told him it even existed. That meant it was either a very new house, or a very unimportant one. How this man achieved to become Hand of the King, he knew not.  
During his years in King's Landing, Rhaegar had learned of every great house an their vassals, and he was interested in it; more than swords, bows and arrows and shields and axes, he liked to read history books and practice his singing and playing his harp. That, of course, didn't mean he wasn't a spectacular swordsman, one of the most proficient in the Seven Kingdoms, but he just didn't like battles and warfare. For that, he had to face his father several times, and the only confort he found was that Aerys wasn't at that moment as insane as he was at the time of the Rebellion.  
  
This Davos Seaworth and two quite large guards escorted him to the library. The guards were very muscular, each carrying an iron axe. They wore typical northern clothes: dark brown leathers over black or dark blue shirts, with fur cloaks sheltering their bodies from the unforgiving weather.  
  
One of the guards opened the door and Davos ushered Rhaegar inside. The library itself wasn't impressive, but it certainly wasn't kept empty. Every bookshelf was full of multiple books and scrolls, and it had several desks and chairs. It also had large windows to make full use of the white winter daylight. It looked cold, but it was cozy and warm.  
  
He rememebered Lyanna telling him that Winterfell was built over hot springs that kept the castle warm even in the worst of winters. She was always so full of life and energy, and when she told him these curious facts she did with a big smile on her face, wrinkling the corner of her big brown eyes. He noticed that Jaehaerys had the exact same smile, when his Queen entered the Throne Room. Sansa Stark. He had absolutely no idea that Jaehaerys had married her, but it made sense.  
As a Targaryen, he had no claim to Winterfell and as soon as the Northern Lords found out that Rhaegar was his father, they would want him out of the North. Also, he cared for the people he was raised with, and marrying Sansa would drive other unwanted suitors away.  
Raised in the Red Keep, he was able to figure out this sort of things. All the pieces of the jigsaw fit.  
  
Observing Ser Davos he noticed a change of demeanor. The initial annoyance he had when first meeting him was gone, and now he had an easy, curious expression on his face. The Hand of the King was balding, Rhaegar thought that Davos must have been at least ten or fifteen years older than him. He looked wise and severe, but also calmed and sensible. He appeared to perfectly know how to behave in front of a King, and that made Rhaegar think that perhaps this wasn't his first time serving a member of a royal family.  
  
-Is... is it true, my Lord? Are you really him?,- Davos suddenly asked.  
  
-Yes.  
  
-But, the battle at the Trident... Robert he-  
  
-I survived. If you wish to know what happened, you are free to stay when my son and his Queen arrive.- He didn't want to tell the story twice. It was already difficult being here all by himself.  
  
-May I ask something though?  
  
-It depends on what you want the answer to be, Lord Hand.  
  
-Why the green hair?  
  
-A disguise, to escape any possible... threat. Our bloodline is pure and proud, but our coloring doesn't help us conceal ourselves.  
  
-I see. Well, that didn't sate my curiosity, but I believe that only you, the King and the Queen should be in the room. His Grace's private life is none of my business.  
  
Rhaegar nodded but didn't vocalize an answer. He waited for Jaehaerys <Jon> and Sansa to step through the door. He sat on one of the chairs, put his elbows on a desk and rested his chin on his intertwined fingers. He was thinking of a thousand things to say to his son, but none of them seemed the right thing.  
  
_That's because I didn't do the right thing_. 

A few more minutes passed and suddenly he heard the door open. Jon and Sansa entered the room hand in hand with a stern look on their faces. He had not been this close to the Queen before, and now he could notice the unparalleled beauty she was.  
Long auburn hair that was loose falling on her back, with only two tiny braids at the sides that met at the back of her head. Her big blue eyes were cold to everyone but Jaehaerys, he noticed. She had rosy full lips, a long neck and a very pleasant figure, hugged by a blue gown that swept the floor she walked on, making her look as if she were gliding instead of actually walking.  
  
He had to suppress any thoughts of her daughter in law. She was technically family now, and he didn't want to spark any kind of jealousy in his son. But still her beauty was undeniable.  
  
Rhaegar rose from his chair and vowed to  the King and Queen of Winter.  Davos and the guards mimicked his action.  
  
-Lord Hand, the Queen and I would like some privacy with this man. If you would please...-Jon began, but was quickly interrupted by Davos.  
  
-Of course, your Grace. Guards, outside.  
  
Davos and the guards left the room and Rhaegar, Jon and Sansa were left alone in the library. They all sat down in the chairs surrounding one of the desks.  
  
None of them seemed to know what to say. There was an uncomfortable silence that was broken suddenly by Jon.  
  
-Well?  
  
Rhaegar was startled by Jaehaerys' voice.  
  
-I... I believe I owe you an explanation, Jaehaerys. When-  
  
-Jon.  
  
-Excuse me?  
  
-Jon. Not Jaehaerys. It's not who I am.  
  
Rhaegar looked down to his feet, and then back to Jae... Jon.  
  
-Jon.- The name sounded foreign now that he knew Lyanna had chosen a Targaryen name for their child. He had his hopes, but it was clear now. Jaehaerys didn't want to be Jaehaerys.- Did... did Ned name you Jon?-  
  
-Yes. After Jon Arryn, I understand. So, I believe you have something to tell us, my Lord. Why don't we start with your identity?  
  
-As I told you both before, I am Rhaegar Targaryen. Your father, Jon.  
  
-Rhaegar Targaryen died twenty two years ago, in the Riverlands, my Lord.-Sansa interjected.- And let me tell you, if he were alive he would have come back years ago.  
  
-No. Not while Robert or his children sat on the Iron Throne. The Spider told me he even sent assassins to Essos, to murder my sister and the child she was bearing.  
  
-And why not join your sister?,- Jon asked.  
  
-Because I thought her dead at first. When I was told she was alive, she already ruled Meereen. Besides, her plan was to go back to Westeros and take the throne, and...-  
  
-And you didn't want the throne,- Sansa said.  
  
-And I didn't want the throne. You know what it does to people, it only produces death and despair. As far as I was concerned, it was better to be dead than being killed for the throne.  
  
-I don't understand. How did you survive the battle?,- Jon asked after a heartbeat of silence.  
  
-I'm going to be honest. I have no idea of how I survived. I remember being knocked off my horse by Robert's warhammer, and then everything went black. When I woke up I was in a ship going to Lys, one of Varys' men was taking care of me. He had left a note with everything I needed to know. Where to go, who to trust, what to do. How to contact him if I ever wanted to come back... among other things.  
  
-What did you do in Lys?  
  
-First of all, I cut my hair and dyed it green, to conceal my identity. I learned how to speak Valyrian, and found a job, as a singer in a brothel.- He chuckled.-Not what one would think of the crown prince.  
  
-You did many things that no one would think of a crown prince, Lord Targaryen.- Jon said. His voice was sad, but didn't sound hateful.-Why didn't you tell me, or Ned or anyone that you were alive?  
  
-I told you before Jon. As long as the Baratheons held the Iron Throne, I couldn't come back. After Robert, came Joffrey. After Joffrey came Tommen and after Tommen came Stannis and after Stannis, Renly. But also... -Rhaegar took a deep breath- I thought you were dead, Jon.  
  
Jon seemed taken aback by his statement, and suddenly he realised.  
  
Rhaegar had been away from Westeros for many years, having to remain hidden until the Baratheons desisted from hunting his family down. The only information he could gather would come from Lord Varys, who Jon knew -because of Tyrion- wasn't reliable at all. He would only give the information he thought necessary; other facts Rhaegar would hear -he supposed- in the brothel or the streets of Lys. He was shaken off his thoughts when Rhaegar spoke again.  
  
-My two other children, Rhaenys and Aegon... and my wife Elia, Tywin Lannister killed them. I sent Lyanna to Dorne, close to Starfall so that the Daynes could protect her. In Lys, Varys only told me that Arthur and Ashara were dead, and I thought the worst. He didn't tell me that it was Ned who fought Arthur in Dorne. He only told me that Lyanna was buried here in Winterfell.- His voice started hinting anger.-Never a word of you. The eunuch always spoke what he deemed necessary, always spoke in riddles. I had no siblings, no children, no father and no mother. My ancestral home given to Stannis, the Red Keep held by Robert. My friends of Starfall gone and the women I loved were dead too. I'm not asking you to forgive me, Jon. I'm asking you to understand. Why come back when there was nothing here for me?  
  
Jon noticed that Rhaegar's indigo eyes were glistening and a few tears were rolling down his cheeks. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt for doubting him, for denying him. The same happened for the both of them. They were reluctant to acknowledge each other because for decades, they thought one another dead.  
Jon didn't know what took him, but he rose from his chair, and he embraced Rhaegar.  
  
Rhaegar was shocked, but only after a moment of hesitation he returned the embrace tightly.  
  
-I'm sorry Jon. If you'll have me, I'll be here for whatever you need.  
  
-Alright. Let's get some sleep,-said Jon breaking the embrace.- I'll have the servants prepare you a bath and clean clothes. And a warm bed.  
  
-And if you didn't know that Jon was alive until now, when did you find out?- Sansa suddenly asked with her hands on her hips and an arched eyebrow.  
  
Rhaegar gave her a warm smile.  
  
-"The Battle of the Bastards". They made me sing a song about it. I asked Varys who this legendary Jon Snow was, and he had no other choice but to tell me. I was so angry I almost gut him alive for keeping the truth from me.  
  
-We took Winterfell two years ago.- said Jon suddenly frowning.- What did you do in those two years?  
  
-I gathered the nerve to come see you.   
  
-It took you two years?

Rhaegar gave him a half smile.

-Well, the journey took a year. 

After a moment of silence, Jon replied while looking at his feet.

-Was it worth it?

-I believe it was. Now I ask: Was this worth it?-said Rhaegar arching an eyebrow.

-We'll see. 


End file.
